Monday, June 21, 2010

TV Club's Cruel Summer


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NJ Housewives
CC: No. That was vile. I'm not gonna dignify it. I can't. Love Dina though. And her cats.

Bethenny Getting Married?
JB: Yep, still watching it. She's suddenly become my favorite yenta. I think I know how this happened. I just finished John Green's book Paper Towns( did I pick it up because of the LA Festival of Books incident? Yes.) I didn't love it the way some people do but his thing about how we become attracted to the attributes we attach to another person and overlook who they actually are: that's totally me and Bethenny. (Unless that's not what he was saying at all. I kind of skim-read it). I don't like her for what she is, I like her for what I think she is: funny, self-deprecating, un-delusional, not crazily materialistic. Everything, in other words, that the other Real Housewives, and every other woman on reality TV, aren't. But if I really think about it, I can't recall one funny thing she said. And I don't think she's uttered a single word that hasn't been about herself. So maybe I'm going to end up hating her. That's usually the way it goes with me.
CC: I didn't watch this but I've read all of John Green's books and here's as good a place to mention it as any, since you started it: John Green rules. In Will Grayson, Will Grayson, there's some line about how when somebody asks if they can ask you a random question, it's never random-- it's like the LEAST random question you're gonna get. He is a wise man. I'd quote the part directly but there's ten feet between me and the book right now.

Top Chef
JB: The first guy kicked off looked like a Na'avi.
CC: So it ended up being that guy? I was watching it and then I lost interest and stopped. But not before I noted that Padma and Gail could have a helluva boob-off right now. Yeesh. (Padma wins.)

Double Exposure
CC: This show is about two fashion photographers named Marcus Klinko and Indrani. They are as weird and Euro and annoying as you would imagine they might be from being named that and having the job of fashion photographer. But it's always interesting to see actual PROFESSIONAL versions of what goes on in Top Model, plus there is literally NOTHING else on TV right now, so when I randomly found this, I was like sure, why not. It's mildly entertaining, I guess. The most interesting thing was the fact that they showed the model on this one shoot before she went into hair and makeup-- she was just standing around looking normal, and you always forget that real models, unlike the ones on Top Model, are always, like, high school kids. She made a face when the designer told her she had a big forehead (he meant it as a compliment since this was a very dramatic high fashion shoot and whatever, but still, some high school girl hearing that is entitled to be like "uh, thanks"), and then it was just mean when the photographer was yelling at her because they suddenly decided that she should go stand out on this narrow ledge and she was scared of heights. But then after it was all over she was a good sport about having done it and dorked out like a kid. It was cute. I just googled the photographers and apparently they're bankrupt and the girl one might be dating Lindsay Lohan. All righty then.

Work Of Art
JB: Miles The OCD Guy Who Tried To Clown Sarah Jessica Parker unveiled his true colors this week. He's the guy who's not there to make fiends. He's the guy who's playing the game. Last week his game was being incapable of functioning in any kind of social situation. He was underestimated. He won. This week, he lacked the strength to stay awake. He lay comatose on a couch, he snored through China Chow's introductions( and, in that, he was not alone) and he dozed through most of the challenge which was to make art out of junk. While his adversaries were struggling to make big statements with abandoned typewriters and decrepit vacuum cleaners, he turned an old cabinet on it's side, threw a sheet over it, climbed on top and rolled himself up in a foetal ball. He was still in that position when the judges arrived. "He's made himself into the exhibit," they marveled. "So brave. So vulnerable." MIles was so refreshed after his forty winks that he decided to join the judges as they evaluated his colleagues. "That's unspeakably boring," he said about another guy's work. Meanwhile, the other guy and the rest of the artists are staring at the judges like, `Do something! Stop letting him get away with this shit." And they did something. They made him the winner again.

Man V Food
JB: Third season for the Travel Channel's eating challenge show which remains a real devil-on-one shoulder-angel-on-the-other situation for me. On the one shoulder: ha ha, the host has to eat an omelette the size of a small horse, it's a dozen-egger, it's piled high with potato skins, look at his face, it's all blotchy, look at the way the sweat pours into his eyes, see how he slows down halfway through like every forkful suddenly weighs a ton and he can hear his heart pound in his ears. On the other shoulder: this guy is wiping years of his life for our entertainment, look at him plunging elbow deep into a bucket of ribs, he's sworn to eat fifty in 30 minutes, he hits something like twenty diners over the course of a season, gnawing his way through pizzas the size of snow-plough tires and curry designed to cause bleeding from the anus, he is killing himself and what about the waste of food and what about the people who count themselves lucky if they get so much as a morsel to eat. Very confusing. That omelette looked great, though...

The Hard Times Of RJ Berger
JB: MTV's never come close to having a success with a live-action scripted show. They're aiming to make a fresh start next year with inferior US adaptations of Skins and The Inbetweeners and an attempt to make a Buffy out of Teen Wolf which isn't a terrible idea. But first there's this, a comedy about a dork with a colossal cock. I'm now going to describe the climax of the first episode. The dork approaches the jock who torments him and dates the hot cheerleader he secretly loves. The dork unzips and hauls out the monster. He gets a handful of cock-sweat and then he rubs it against the jock's face. The rest of the school breaks into cheers and applause. The end.

The Real L Word
JB: I learned a new word. Futch. Meaning femme acting butch. Thanks, lesbians.

SYTYCD Wednesday
CC: I love this show so much that it's really hard for me not to just ramble on and on and get way too detailed, so as an experiment this week I'm just gonna write about each contestant's dance as if I were tweeting it. Ready?
Billy broadway: Lauren raped Billy.
Cristina jazz: MARK!!!
Jose hip-hop: Okay, that was cool.
Adechike jazz: Loved it. Mostly cuz of Kathryn.
Tapper Girl jive: No. But Pasha! But she sucked. And referred to herself in third person. And sucked.
Alex contemporary: The song was too on the nose. The overacting was crazy. AND I LOVED IT. And OMG he cried! And Allison...my god. Allison.
Alexie hip-hop: Cute. A bit too Laker Girl-y.
Lauren pop jazz: Eh.
Kent cha-cha: OMG. Kent FTW. Kent FTmotherfuckinW. I giggled in delight throughout that whole thing. He even made Adam namecheck Gev! GEV!
Ashley contemporary: Tyce frankensteined that together from totally recognizable bits of like 12 other dances. Just say no to patchwork choreo!
Robert african jazz: I am very interested in Robert Roldan. I am VERY interested in Robert Roldan. Give him a couple years and he's Mark.
Cat's dress: Sure.
Cat's hair: Nope.

SYTYCD Thursday.
CC: Goddammit. I knew exactly what would happen upon seeing that bottom 3, and it's exactly what happened. Bleh. :( Alexie wuz robbed.

JB:If Lythgoe hadn't made a point of introducing new director Nikki Parsons, I wouldn't have taken the effort to IMDB her and discover that she has no experience directing dance shows. Apart from three seasons of the UK Dancing With The Stars. And all the Andrew Lloyd Webber pick-a-singing-and-dancing-star-for-my-next-West-End-revival shows. And the Eurovision Song Contest. Despite Nikki's best efforts, there was a lot to love over these two days. Alex/Allison obviously topped the list but where do you go after `best routine ever danced on any stage'? Was there anyone who watched that clip of Billy Bell and his dad looking proudly at the table they'd whittled and didn't immediately think of Kurt and Burt from Glee? Kent reminded both me and Lythgoe of actors. For him, it was the young Paul Newman. For me, it was Jack McBrayer. That Usher song fucking sucks. This season is going to be a girl-pocalypse. It's going to be a dollocaust. It will be a modern-day miracle if there's one girl standing by the time we reach the top 5. Kathryn CREMATED Adechike and he didn't even graze the bottom 3. The judges are tough-loving Froderman in the hope the tween girl audience throws her a sympathy text but I fear she will be mown down in a hail of get-out-of-the-way-so-we-can-watch-the-inevitable-showdown-between Billy and Alex. Also, I'm kind of kicking myself because I could easily have got tickets for that Twyla Tharp show but I chose not to. On the other hand, could I have sat through two hours of Sinatra songs? We'll never know.
CC: SPOILER ALERT: I just read that Billy Bell is krumping this week with Comfort. HAHHAAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. You know what? He just might Travis the thing and kick ass. But probably not. (spoilers are onhttp://www.sytycdism.com/ if you wanna check 'em out)

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